“And you’ll just get out of the wag, say hi and open the doors to everyone?” Despite his lack of hostility, there was still a skeptical note to the baron’s voice.
Ryan smiled. “Yeah, weird as it sounds. Listen, you’ve got to remember that we’ve fought these coldheart bastards before, and we know what they’re like. They’ve spent too long underground, and although they had better blasters and a lot of working old tech, they couldn’t hold their own in a firefight. You must have seen how the ones in the wag acted when they got out to fight us.”
Yardie broke his silence, his voice sounding uncertain, although the words were, “Yeah, I figure he’s right, baron. I saw them, just like a bunch of kids learning the basics of fighting. Come to that, I figure that a bunch of kids would have more suss than that.”
Baron Robertson nodded slowly, biting his lip. “So they’d be so stupe as to just let you in?”
“Yeah, I figure so. And we’ll be wearing the uniforms, so they won’t be expecting us to suddenly turn on them when we get out of the wag. By the time they’ve gathered themselves, then we’ll be at their throats and have the main sec doors open.”
“How you gonna manage that?” Yardie asked, but this time there was no sneer of disbelief in the sec man’s voice, rather a genuine interest.
“Seen it in their last place,” Ryan lied, unwilling to divulge further information. “They always scratch the code for the door above the keypad. Mebbe it’s so they don’t forget if they panic. It was all over the last place they were at. I can’t see that this would be any different.”
The baron sighed heavily. “This is all too weird. Weird fuckers who come out of the ground and try to chill everyone with some old disease so that they can take over and rule a land where everyone else has taken the last train west… I mean, shit—a disease that goes back beyond the nukecaust?”
“It may be hard to believe, Baron, but it’s as near to the truth as any of us can make out,” Ryan said evenly. “I don’t understand why they’re doing it any more than you do. But it doesn’t matter—the only thing that actually matters is that they are doing it. Just ask Hector if you don’t believe me or Mildred. We’ve got a chance to stop them. And if we don’t take that chance, then…” Ryan shrugged, leaving the baron to make his own conclusion.
“Hell, Baron, I’d rather die in a firefight than from that disease,” Yardie whispered, almost visibly quailing at the thought.
Robertson seemed lost in thought for the moment, then suddenly shook his head. “No, you’re right. We always try to keep out of trouble, here. You never know who might pay you jack, right? But this is more than that. Yeah, you’ve got our help, Ryan. Just tell me what you need.”
Ryan grinned. “Time, but there ain’t shit you can do about that. Otherwise…”
“KEEP IT STEADY. The last thing we want is for more chilling before we even start,” J.B. muttered through clenched teeth as the Illuminated wag was jacked up a little higher to enable himself and Dean to gain a greater access to the underneath of the chassis.
“No real damage,” Dean commented. “These wags are real good pieces of work.” He tapped the metal casings with a wrench. “If we could find out what this metal’s actually made of—”
“I know, I know,” the Armorer said sharply, cutting him off, “but right now I just want to get this done before it falls on us.”
Dean followed J.B.’s gaze, and understood his feelings. The jacks that were holding both ends of the wag off the ground were old and rusty. Whether it was real or not, J.B. felt that he could almost see them buckling under the strain. Jak and two of the Crossroads dwellers had already changed the tires that the albino teen had shot out, unbolting the wheels from behind the alloy wheel guards and replacing the exploded rubber with worn but still serviceable tires plundered from wags around the ville. The four wheel drive vehicle had a large wheel radius and girth, and it had been a struggle to find wheels that would match. Eventually, a pair of old tractor wags had been located in one of the field barns, left to rot when their engines had given out and replacement parts couldn’t be found. Both had rear wheel drive, and on both the tires for those rear wheels had been still in good order. They had been rapidly plundered and placed on the Illuminated wag.